


balance

by slowlange



Series: problematique [random explicit one shots] [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Incest, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Content, Sibling Incest, Smut, Twincest, they're 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27977541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowlange/pseuds/slowlange
Summary: Long practices that seldom got on his nerve or little things that would hold weight and annoy him as the day would pass by, were what drove Osamu into Atsumu’s bed after all the lights in their house flickered off for the night.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Miya Osamu
Series: problematique [random explicit one shots] [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045038
Comments: 17
Kudos: 183





	balance

**Author's Note:**

> aight, miyacest. we did that. we did.  
> i fucking, have not been able to stop thinking about them, so here's a short little thing :)
> 
> i repeat: MIYACEST. INCEST. this is your final TW!  
> any bs in the comments is getting reported and deleted :)
> 
> for those of you that do move forward, enjoy!

Long practices that seldom got on his nerve or little things that would hold weight and annoy him as the day would pass by, were what drove Osamu into Atsumu’s bed after all the lights in their house flickered off for the night. Good days left his evenings free, open-ended. Bad days always lead to an inevitable routine. 

When it was all over he would shut down, completely close in on himself as he and Atsumu would walk home. Sometimes Atsumu would try to talk to him, egg him on, but Osamu wouldn’t have it in him to come back with anything. His isolation wouldn’t cease until he showered, which wouldn’t happen until he had a meal and drilled through his homework. He would shower long and late, stuck around until he knew it was safe to move around without any sort of interaction. The extra time gave him a moment to breathe and go over the course of the day, come to terms with his sea of emotions before finally seeking out his twin.

He didn’t like to take all of his emotion and lay it on Atsumu at once, hence the routine. His brother wasn’t for mere use, and for his own relief at that. Atsumu was his, to love, to cherish, to complete. Every fight, every embrace, every veiled night in the bed of their choice, was theirs to share. But their emotional burdens were never each other’s to shoulder wholly. To push everything on him would be opposing that notion. It was only the last of his tension, the dwindling lava that boiled at the core of his being, that he saved for Atsumu.

Just enough for him to give, in the way he knows best.

After he’s dressed and gone through all the steps, water dripping from the ends of damp strands of hair, he tiptoed into Atsumu’s bedroom, careful of the creak that would often sound if Osamu pulled too harshly. Usually, he’d walk in on Atsumu’s head buried in a book, or his eyes split wide as he stared at his TV for the third or fourth consecutive hour. Tonight, he sat intently in his bed, legs draped over his neatly made sheets, eyes quick to meet Osamu’s.

He was waiting.

“You didn’t talk to me all night,” Atsumu answers the question that pools in his brother’s eyes. “I figured you’d find your way here.”

The most alluring thing about their relationship was how quick they were to adjust to each other. Their friends noticed it, made it the main anecdote of their relationship; Aran would make fun, cry claims of telepathy. No one knew, but Osamu believed it to be real, to an extent. And it was nights like these, the ones where Atsumu would just _know_ , that would spell out exactly why he did.

Their lips found each other, a one-way collision course filled with tension begging for release. Osamu loved the way his brother tasted after a long shower, his senses tricking him as the scent of his flowery shampoo flooded his nose. Atsumu met him with equal hunger, grabbing at his shoulders and pulling them down, chests flush against each other.

“You should work on talking when you’re upset,” He whispers. A small buck of his hips rubs their already hard cocks together. Sex is on the brain. Osamu can’t wait any longer.

"I'll try harder next time."

He makes quick work of Atsumu’s clothes, throwing them aimlessly to the side like the worthless scraps of fabric they are at the moment. He kisses him before pressing a heavy, heated palm to his chest. Atsumu licks into him the same time his fingers twist on his sensitive nipple. Osamu swallows the noise that escapes his twin’s mouth with pleasure. Wouldn’t want mom and dad to be worried, after all.

On the nights where he’s most pent up, where he just _can’t_ let something go, he likes to put Atsumu in front of him, ass up, face down. There’s a thin line between using him and _using him_ , in Osamu’s eyes. Because he knows sometimes, Atsumu likes to be fucked like a rag doll, completely and utterly helpless to the girth that pounds into him from behind. And Osamu, out of the goodness of his heart and the depth of his depravity, wants nothing more than to give it to him.

But tonight he craves Atsumu’s eyes. He wants to lose himself in his brother’s soul; his love, all dedicated and devoted to him. His second half. Because sometimes Osamu wants to feel exactly what it’s like to be the only person that has the privilege to see Atsumu at his weakest. The most beautiful, intimate side of him.

When he presses inside of his tight heat Osamu feels all of the air in his lungs bunch in his throat, Atsumu panting heavily for the both of them. His walls close in around him and it feels like they’re doing it for the first time all over again, though that initial layer of fear and curiosity is long gone. They know each other better than ever after playing this out for so long, indulging in their deepest, darkest of secrets: the infinite expansion of their love.

Osamu snaps into Atsumu fast, attracting forces finding their way home. Nails dig into his shoulder blades and Atsumu throws his head back, the span of his neck outstretched for Osamu to bite down, teeth gnawing into his skin with the intention of leaving a mark that he’ll look at with pride when the sun rises once more over their little town.

He chases the friction between his cock and Atsumu's hole, chases the rush of making him feel good, making his eyes water, making him fall apart in a matter of seconds with a single jerk of his hips. His name drops from his tongue like honey. His worries wash away, unnecessary thoughts as arousal burns in his core. The only two that exist in this world are Osamu and Atsumu. 

Atsumu reaches his orgasm in minutes, his brother taking hold of his cock and milking out of him with learned skill. Seed splatters against his chest and the sight causes Osamu to spill over in turn, eyes blown wide and staggered, broken utterings of hushed, “Tsumu, Tsumu, Tsumu,” left hanging in the air. 

Neither of them provides each other time to breathe after such high strung climaxes, lips connected and moving languidly against each other once more as if they hadn’t made love mere moments ago. Osamu tongues him and Atsumu sighs sweetly, eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he’s absolutely smothered with love that he’s positive only one person is capable of giving.

They help each other clean up once they’ve settled, their hearts returned to their metal cages. Atsumu asks Osamu to spend the night in his bed like he always does. Osamu takes his hands, whispers against them that he wishes up and down that he could, but would much rather avoid suspicion. Atsumu argues it but gives in like he always does. Atsumu lets him cross the hall back to his room with a goodbye kiss passionate enough to feel like a tattoo on Osamu’s mouth once it’s gone.

And when Osamu shuts the door and twists the lock, he brings his fingers to his bottom lip and remembers that the universe will always balance itself out till it’s even. With bad, will always come good.

Two halves of a whole.

**Author's Note:**

> ty for reading if you did <3 i plan on writing them a lot more not only because they're a current fixation, but because of what an absolutely intense dynamic they have. so much potential...must exploit
> 
> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/slowlange) if ya wanna come yell wit me, but also take a look at my carrd before you do, because i do dabble in discourse (though i'm slowly tryna move away) and i realize that people may be following me w/o knowing that!


End file.
